Oblivious
by Divine-Fayth
Summary: When Ron comes back from a date to find Harry sat alone waiting for him, he doesn't seem to realise that there's anything unusual going on. (Warning: Slash.)


Ron slammed the dormitory door shut behind him, making Harry jump.  
  
"I'm sick of her!" he snapped, throwing his bag against the wall with a loud thud before slumping facedown onto his bed in a heap.  
  
Harry stared at him. "Date go well then?" he said eventually, putting his book down.  
  
"Bastard," replied Ron's muffled voice. Harry just laughed.  
  
"Go on, then. What happened then?"  
  
Ron rolled over onto his back. "It was crap," he moaned. "All she did was complain all evening. First of all it was the food- I should have picked a better restaurant, she said. Then it was my hair. She said I obviously didn't care about her much if I couldn't be bothered to make an effort with my appearance."  
  
"Well," Harry said slowly, "I hate to tell you this, Ron, but Luigi's isn't exactly the classiest place to take someone for your anniversary. I'm sure that cook of theirs is a ghoul."  
  
"Don't be thick. If she was a ghoul all the pasta would be full of fingers and stuff."  
  
"Yeah, it'd probably taste better if it was," he agreed. Ron threw a pillow at him.  
  
"I've taken Hermione there before and she's never complained," he said.  
  
"Yes she has, Ron. Everyone's complained about the food at Luigi's. It's got to be the worst place there is in Hogsmeade."  
  
"She hasn't complained any more than everyone else, then."  
  
"It's not exactly romantic, though, is it? I mean, it is your six- month anniversary."  
  
"So?" Ron asked, looking bewildered.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "So you're meant to take her somewhere special."  
  
"But why? I mean, it's not even a proper anniversary. It's only six months. And it's not like we're married or anything." Ron made a face at the word 'married'.  
  
"Yeah, well, you know what girls are like."  
  
"Tell me about it," Ron groaned, sitting up and pulling his hair back into some sort of order. "They're all nutters. And 'Mione's the worst. You should hear what she said tonight- started complaining that we didn't see each other enough!"  
  
Harry frowned. Normally he tried to be understanding about the way Hermione acted, but this seemed a little beyond him. "But you see her every day," he pointed out. "You have half your lessons together. And you always sit together at meals."  
  
"I know," he agreed, "that's what I said. She just gave me this look and said I was missing the point."  
  
"Mental."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
There was a long pause, before Ron finally sat up. His hair was messed up from his rolling around on the bad.  
  
"You know what?" Ron asked, picking bits of fluff off his bed. "I think I've realised something."  
  
"Go on, then."  
  
"Girls. They're insane, the lot of them. They never know what they want, but they always expect us to know, for some reason. And then they use any excuse to pick a fight. And they still call it our fault, because we aren't psychic or something."  
  
Harry shrugged. "Like I said, that's just the way they are. There's not a lot you can do about it- unless you want to turn into a monk," he added with a grin. Ron threw a pillow at him.  
  
"Bugger off. You think I could give up dating?"  
  
"I don't know. Could you?"  
  
"Don't be daft. You know how much I like Hermione. And even if I didn't have her, then. well." He hesitated. "I wouldn't want to go through life a virgin," he said finally.  
  
"Yeah. Me neither."  
  
"It's just. it's so much work, you know? Girls are so bloody awkward. Now, lads," Ron said, in a thoughtful voice, "Lads are much easier to understand. I mean, if you were sick of me borrowing your broomstick, you'd just tell me, right? Not leave it for three months then bring it up in the middle of some argument that didn't have anything to do with it in the first place. Honestly, the way girls treat this stuff, it's like they're hoarding weapons," he said darkly.  
  
Harry made a non-committal noise. "Well, boys are just more straight forward, I suppose."  
  
"Yeah. Sometimes I think boys are so much easier to deal with. You know, it's a pity you can't date boys. Right?" Ron laughed.  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, in a rather strange, tight voice. "Pity."  
  
Ron yawned, suddenly. He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Oh, hell," he exclaimed, "I'm sorry. I've just been going on about who knows what for ages. Do you have work to do or something?"  
  
"Nah, not so much. Snape gave me an extra Potions essay to do, but I already finished it."  
  
"So what're you doing sat up here on your own?" Ron asked him, with a frown. "Didn't you get bored? You should've gone into the common room, not sat on your own for ages."  
  
Harry made a face. "You and Hermione were out, and most other people are busy with work. There was only really Colin Creevey to talk to, and being photographed non-stop isn't my idea of a fun evening."  
  
"Huh. Suppose not. What've you been up to, then?"  
  
"Oh, nothing really," Harry said, sounding far too nonchalant to be entirely innocent.  
  
Ron gave him a suspicious look. Harry tried to hide the book he was holding, but Ron caught sight of it and asked, "What's with the book? That some extra-credit work or something?"  
  
"It's nothing," Harry insisted, trying to shove it under the bedsheets but only managing to get it tangled up.  
  
"Let me see," Ron replied, standing up and trying to grab for the book. "Come on, it must be something good if it's kept you occupied all evening."  
  
"No!" Harry pulled the book away, but Ron had hold of it now, and all he managed to do was pull Ron towards him. Ron yelped as his foot got caught in the sheets, and he stumbled. He fell forward onto Harry, and the two of them ended up in an inelegant heap on the bed.  
  
Ron stared down at Harry, who was looking back wide-eyed from directly underneath him. The book had been dropped, and was lying open on the floor.  
  
"Sorry," Ron said. He managed to get his foot untangled, and he stood back up. Harry sat up as well. He must have been winded when he fell on him, Ron decided, because he looked like he was having trouble breathing.  
  
Ron bent down to pick the book up. He gave it a quick look through, not really stopping to read any of the writing. Harry, who had been breathing hard a moment ago, now seemed to have stopped breathing all together.  
  
"What is all this?" Ron asked him.  
  
Harry shrugged, rather shakily. "Nothing important. It's kind of a diary."  
  
"Oh. Sorry then." Ron flicked through the last few pages, which were blank, before throwing it back to Harry. He caught it one-handed.  
  
Ron looked up at the clock again. "Listen," he said, "I think maybe I'd better go talk to Hermione. She should still be in the Common Room, right?"  
  
"Yeah. I suppose."  
  
"You don't want to come down, do you?"  
  
Harry shrugged again. "Nah, it's fine. I'll see you later, okay?"  
  
"Yeah. Later." Ron flashed his friend a quick grin, before turning around and heading back out the door. It shut behind him with a click, leaving Harry sitting up in his bed, alone.  
  
"Love you," he said, to the empty room. 


End file.
